It's a Metaphor
by cries havoc
Summary: Pezberry future-fic. A Gleek and a Cheerio run into each other at a bar.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Below is my Gleefic debut. Be kind, please. Pezberry for the win.

It had been nearly three years since Rachel Berry had escaped Lima, Ohio and college life in New York City had been kind to her. She was ranked number seven in her class as Julliard and was planning to spend the summer in the City auditioning for short-term, off-Broadway roles. She'd starred in three productions at Julliard already and senior year looked to be even more promising. Her dads were ecstatic at her success. So was Finn Hudson, who had remained a dear friend to the petite singer over the past few years.

Finn and Rachel had attempted to rekindle whatever flame they'd discovered during Glee club back in Lima during the summer between freshman and sophomore year. Rachel knew Finn would have been happy to pursue their relationship into the fall semester that year, but something tugged Rachel away.

Rachel broke things off with Finn two weeks before they returned to school. He'd taken it well and admitted he wasn't sure how the long-distance thing would have worked out anyway. Rachel was relieved and knew that Finn would find someone new at OSU easily enough. Time proved her right when, two months later, Finn had sheepishly called her the day after Rachel had "liked" his new relationship status on Facebook.

Fast-forward to the present and Rachel was honestly glad Finn and his girlfriend, Jane, were still going strong. She smiled as she browsed a few of Finn's photo albums online before glancing at the clock and sighing, her smile fading. It was nearly ten on a Friday night and Rachel felt a now-familiar internal debate begin.

Rachel had participated in the supposedly-typical sexual exploration part of college during her time at Julliard. She'd slept with a few guys her freshman year and the fall of her sophomore year – always with protection, she'd learned that lesson well enough by proxy thanks to Quinn and Puck – and just before winter break that year she'd had her first experience with another woman. Rachel was by no means homophobic, growing up with her dads that was a given, but Rachel had been genuinely surprised when the one-night-stand she had with a girl from another floor of her dorm had turned into a five month relationship.

This relationship had not ended as well as Rachel's second attempt with Finn and Rachel quickly fell into a routine of watching her back on campus for any sign of her ex and the so-called friends who had turned their backs on her since the breakup. After the other girl had caused a scene outside on of Rachel's classes, she felt it was better safe than sorry. After a year, even though things had calmed down and Rachel was not longer bombarded with angry stares on a daily basis, it had become second nature.

Sighing again and shaking the memories away, Rachel stood from her desk and faced her closet. She hadn't been out on a Friday night in months. It wasn't so much anymore that her ex, Lisa, would pick a fight if they ended up at the same club. It was more that Rachel was sick of starting fresh with someone new. It had been exhilarating at first, dating new people who didn't know she'd been slushied daily for the majority of high school. Now that the semester was winding down and the summer stretched before her, Rachel found herself wishing in vain to be back in Lima, singing with her friends.

"This is stupid," Rachel said aloud to herself. "Lima is the past and, well, whichever club I end up at tonight is the future. The present. The now." Rachel continued muttering as she dressed to go out. Half an hour later, Rachel walked out of her dorm and heading towards the heart of Greenwich Village. Rachel strolled the city streets and eventually, discreetly, followed three girls her age into an establishment that, judging by the crowd standing outside smoking, did not cater to many men.

Two hours later, Rachel was nursing a beer when a shout went up from the other side the bar. A crowd had gathered around two women who looked to be engaged in a drinking contest. Rachel normally didn't care for such antics, but one of the women caught her eye.

"No freaking way," she murmured, but stood and made her way slowly through the packed club towards the Latina who was now triumphantly smiling as her defeated opponent ran off towards the bathroom. Rachel wrinkled her nose, knowing well why the woman had bolted from the bar. She didn't know how many shots had been involved, but surely more than was really advisable. The crowd around the Latina was thick, but Rachel figured she could cut through it pretty easily. Once within ear shot, she cupped a hand to her mouth and shouted. "Santana Lopez!"

Santana's head jerked in Rachel's direction, a look of disbelief on her face. The Latina's eyes widened when she saw Rachel and she blinked a few times before looking down at the empty shot glasses in front of her.

Rachel chuckled. "You aren't hallucinating, Santana," she ventured.

Santana looked up again and seemed to have trouble deciding whether to smile or sneer. "Rachel Berry. It's… been a long time."

The crowd around Santana had thinned out by now to the point that Rachel was able to lean up against the bar a few feet from the Latina.

"Almost three years. How've you been?"

"What are you doing here?" Santana replied, ignoring the other brunette's question.

Rachel shrugged, "Dancing, drinking, though, not as much as you." She nodded towards the shot glasses on the bar.

Santana nodded a bit. "Yeah, well, some newbie thought she could out-drink me."

Rachel pushed some hair away from her face, "Obviously she was wrong."

Santana grinned, "No one out-drinks Santana Lopez." Santana's grin faded. "Seriously, Berry, you know this is a lesbian bar right?"

"I'm bisexual," Rachel said with a smile. "What about you? Are you aware this isn't a straight bar?"

Santana grunted and signaled the bartender. "I'm queer."

Rachel absorbed this information silently and raised a brow. "New York must be smaller than I thought, for us to run into each other like this. Though," she paused as Santana glanced at her and the beer in her hand, "it has been a few years. I guess it was bound to happen."

Mentally preparing to tune Rachel out if she kept talking, Santana ordered two beers and pulled her wallet out of the pocket of her black jeans. She paid the bartender, tipping generously, before turning back to Rachel and offering her one of the beer bottles.

Rachel smiled at her old… well, teammate. They'd never exactly been friends, even senior year of high school when New Directions had placed fourth in the country after handing Vocal Adrenaline their asses at Regionals. She took the beer, figuring the remains of her old one had gone flat by now anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks you for the reviews, alerts and whatnot, everyone! I finished up this chapter as fast as I could. I need to take some time to map out the plot now, so the next update won't be as speedy. Sorry for that in advance. Enjoy! PS: I don't own Glee.

Santana Lopez was happier than she'd been in years. Almost three years ago Santana had left Lima, Ohio for Columbia University and the sprawling streets of New York City. She happily lost herself in the crowd, for the first time in her life, and just blended in. In New York, there was no need to slushy dweebs and there were no Cheerios and no Gleeks. This was something Santana had been happy about, at first.

After a while, though, Santana found that while pursuing a degree in political science and a minor in psychology in order to prepare herself for law school was exactly what she wanted to be doing, something was missing. Her classes were challenging and her friends engaging, but there were a few hours every day that Santana found herself longing for Cheerios practice, Sue's yelling, the friendship of the other Glee kids, Mr. Shue and his stupid hair, and Rachel Berry's voice.

This last thought always bothered Santana, but she knew it was true. Berry had the best voice Santana had ever heard from someone their age. They weren't even Facebook friends, though, despite the fact that the Latina would sometimes sit at her computer and hover her cursor over the "Friend Request" button after finding Rachel on someone's friends list. That someone was usually Kurt, the only person Santana had come out to before leaving Lima behind.

Four memories from senior year at WMHS stood out to the Latina. The first was the Cheerios winning Nationals, again. The second was whipping Vocal Adrenaline at show choir Regionals. The third was hugging Rachel when it was announced that New Directions was the fourth best choir in the country. The one that she remembered most distinctly was the look on Kurt's face when she was hugging Rachel and the conversation that following a week later.

The sad smile Kurt had given her that day stayed on her mind and she'd cornered him in the choir room when they got back to school, demanding an explanation. When Kurt told her he "knew," she'd immediately scoffed. Santana still smiled now when she thought about how easily she'd caved a few seconds later, admitting quietly that he was right by asking: "Well, yeah, whatever. Have you seen Berry's legs?" He'd laughed and they'd been okay. For as much as Kurt was a gossip, someone else's sexuality was apparently a secret worth keeping. Santana had tried to put her crush on Rachel out of her mind for the rest of the school year and succeeded. Then it was off to New York and the Latina rarely looked back.

So when she found herself sitting next to Rachel freaking Berry on a Friday night, chugging back beers, Santana didn't quite know what to do. She was already pretty drunk and wasn't exactly thinking clearly. Asking Rachel to dance seemed like as good an idea as any.

"You want to dance, short stack?"

Rachel rolled her eyes at the name, but there was no malice in the other woman's voice. After considering for a moment, Rachel nodded and pulled Santana off her bar stool.

The Latina swayed a bit, but led the way out onto the dance floor, gripping the shorter brunette's hand lightly. It was already late, but the club would be open for at least another hour before security started to lose patience with the stragglers, so Santana and Rachel had time to dance until both were breathing heavily.

Santana's body was on fire. Rachel was a fabulous dancer and did not seem to have any intention of leaving space between them. For her part, Santana just tried to stay on her feet and enjoy the moment. Every time their eyes met in the dim lighting of the dance floor, Santana could barely look away. It had been almost three damn years, but Rachel was still hot and Santana was very drunk and it was all she could do not to kiss the petite singer right there. Apparently some crushes did not die.

Leaning forward and putting her lips against Rachel's ear, Santana gave in to temptation, "Let's get out of here, Rach."

Rachel's arms tightened around Santana's neck and Santana curled her fingers against Rachel's hips. She said back, "One more song?"

Santana frowned, but nodded, continuing to dance hip to hip with Rachel for another few minutes. When the song changed again she raised an eyebrow at the woman in her arms.

Rachel grinned and took Santana's hand, leading her out of the now half-empty club. Once outside, she turned and looked pointedly at their joined hands. "Are you for real about this?"

Santana stepped closer to Rachel and used her free hand to tilt the other woman's chin up. "You're hot, you've lost the ugly sweaters and I'm drunk off my ass," Santana smirked when Rachel opened her mouth to protest the sweater comment. She took the opportunity to place her lips firmly against Rachel's for a few seconds.

Rachel smiled into the kiss, waiting for Santana to pull back first. When the Latina did, she said, "Are you even going to remember this tomorrow?"

Santana shrugged. "It'll be fuzzy. I'm not black out drunk." She tugged at their intertwined hands. "You want a piece of me or not, Berry?" Santana was not a patience person when she was sober, let alone drunk and turned on from an hour of dirty dancing.

Rachel bit her lip and glanced away, obviously torn.

Deciding to help swing the verdict in her favor, Santana leaned forward and down, nuzzling Rachel's neck and placing gentle kisses against the shorter brunette's soft skin. She felt more than heard Rachel sigh and growled when the shorter woman pushed at her shoulders.

"Where do you live? Are you on campus at Columbia?" Rachel asked.

Santana shook her head. "No. It's not far to my apartment, actually," she murmured against Rachel's bare shoulder.

"Let's go," Rachel whispered in Santana's ear, earning a wide smile from the other woman.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note****:** Happy 4th of July weekend, everyone! Hopefully the long weekend (no work Monday!) will continue to translate into more chapters. This one is a bit short, but I think the next one will be longer. We'll see.

Generally Rachel would prefer not to engage in anything physical with another person when one or both were less than sober, but tonight she decided to make an exception. Santana was fairly insistent that they hook up and Rachel found that once she felt the Latina's lips against her neck and shoulder, she didn't really want to say no.

Once back at Santana's apartment the two women had exchanged few words. At first, Rachel could think of a million things to say. How nice the apartment was, for example, or how sexy Santana looked as she pushed the petite songstress against the bedroom door. After that moment, as Santana's warm hands slid under her shirt, Rachel stopped thinking entirely.

The night gave way to sensations. Like the feeling of soft sheets against her bare back as Santana smirked down at her. Like the shiver that ran through the Latina's body as Rachel raked her nails down Santana's sides and hooked her fingers into the other woman's jeans, tugging repeatedly until Santana chuckled and took one of Rachel's hands in her own, moving it until Rachel felt her fingers graze the cold metal of Santana's belt buckle. Like the ringing in her ears that a small part of her brain that was fully functioning told her was caused by Rachel's own screams.

Like the ache behind her eyes and the headache Rachel woke up with the next day. The ache eased almost immediately as the harsh light of the sun was no suddenly blocked by a curtain. Rachel cautiously opened one eye and saw Santana standing at the window, rubbing a hand over her face. It took the shorter brunette a few moments to process that the Latina was still naked. Rachel stretched and couldn't help letting out a small moan and she woke up fully and began to take stock of all the ways in which her body currently hurt.

Santana looked over at her and seemed to be fighting back a smile. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," Rachel managed out before rolling onto her stomach and burying her head in one of Santana's pillows.

Rachel felt it when Santana sat down on the bed next to her, but she still jumped a bit when the other woman's hand settled against her hip.

"It's two in the afternoon. You want something to eat?" Santana pushed the sheet covering Rachel's body down and splayed her fingers against the singer's bare skin.

Rachel moaned again and though it was muffled by the pillow, she was sure Santana heard her. Sure because she felt Santana shift on the bed and then the grown up Cheerio was spooning her and pulling her close.

Santana placed a soft kiss against the back of Rachel's shoulder. "Last night was pretty awesome."

Rachel grinned. "Yeah, it was." She turned in Santana's arms and looked at her old teammate with a shy smile. "Any chance it's going to happen again?"

Rachel watched as Santana bit her lip. Remembering how Santana had influenced her own decision less than twenty-four hours ago, Rachel slid her hand down onto the Latina's ass and leaned forward, biting down gently on Santana's earlobe.

Santana pushed back against Rachel's hand and turned her head enough to kiss Rachel's jaw without the other woman's teeth leaving her ear.

Rachel let go of Santana's ear and whispered, "Well? You want another piece of me or not, Lopez?"

Chuckling at the intended symmetry, Santana nodded. "Let's get something to eat and take it from there, okay?" At Rachel's disappointed face, she added, "Don't worry, you've made a compelling argument. I just don't think well when I' hungry."

Rachel smiled and kissed Santana lightly. "You don't have soy milk do you? I want cereal."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Okay, so this isn't longer, but I'm best at writing one scene at a time. Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites and alerts. They make me really happy. Enjoy, everyone!

Generally Santana preferred one-night-stand situations and, as a rule, went to the other woman's bed. With Rachel, she made an exception, because her apartment was nearby and she didn't want to wait. The few times Santana had brought women back to her place she would rely on her internal clock, perfected by years of waking up for early Cheerios practice, to ensure she was up and thinking clearly in order to usher her latest conquest out while the other woman was still half-asleep and thus less likely to remember where Santana lived.

When Santana woke up to see Rachel still sleeping peacefully, she sighed and brought a hand to her head, knowing her headache was well deserved. She'd been half-drunk already when last night's drinking contest got underway. Flashes of the previous night came back to her slowly and she grinned lazily, remembering the room had been light by the time the two brunettes had collapsed into sleep.

Standing in her small kitchen with Rachel felt surreal. The other woman was happily, and surprisingly enough quietly, enjoying a bowl of Raisin Bran. After relaying her surprised that Santana did have soy milk, the Julliard star was content to eat her food in companionable silence.

Santana just smiled, took a bite of her toast, and enjoyed the quiet while it lasted. She guessed, correctly, that Rachel would not be able to sit without words for long.

"So, Santana. You… When did you come out?" Rachel asked, spoon halfway to her mouth.

Santana choked on her toast. "_Cague, dígame lo que es realmente en su mente_," Santana muttered.

Rachel chuckled. "I just did tell you what's really on my mind." At Santana's questioning look, she added, "I'm taking Spanish at Julliard."

Santana nodded and took a moment to breathe deeply. With her eyes closed, she said, "I came out to most people my freshman year at Columbia. I finally told my family about two months ago." Santana figured this was enough of the truth without getting into the part where Kurt knew a year earlier and why.

"How did that go?" Rachel asked, finishing her cereal.

"As well as could be expected, I guess," Santana replied, shrugging. "My family is Catholic. They love me and some of them, especially my mom, want to understand how and why the Church says homosexuality is wrong if their darling _mija_ was born gay."

"At least they're trying. That's more than a lot of families do."

Santana nodded, looking at the countertop and then smiling faintly as Rachel reached across and squeezed her hand.

"What about you, _chica bonita_? Have you told your dads?"

Rachel smiled warmly at the endearment. "Yeah. I told them about a year ago, when I was dating my now ex-girlfriend. They were accepting, obviously."

Santana nodded. "So," she paused, fighting with herself. This, running into Rachel and suddenly, maybe, having a chance with her, seemed too good to be true.

"So?" Rachel quirked a brow, still holding Santana's hand lightly.

"Dinner this weekend. Sound like a plan?"

Rachel grinned, "Yes. Yes it does."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note****:** Thank you all so much for the reviews, the alerts and the favorites. I'm really glad everyone is enjoying this so much. Here's another short piece. I'll try to bang out the next chapter later today, but no promises. The next one is important, so I want to take some time with it.

Two weeks ago, if someone had told Rachel she'd run into Santana at a bar, sleep with her, and then be having dinner with the Latina at a swanky midtown restaurant on a Thursday night the week before finals, she would not have believed them. Rachel probably would have launched into a lengthy explanation of all the reasons why that particular series of events was unlikely. Regardless, now that the petite singer was seated across from Santana at said swanky restaurant, she was happy it was real.

"What classes are you taking this semester, other than Spanish?" Santana asked politely, trying to seem natural.

Rachel bit back a smile at the other woman's obvious nervousness. "Right now I'm studying costume design, Eastern theatre origins and taking advanced tap dance lessons a few times a week. What about you?"

"American Presidency, European Union, Symbolic Law Use in Conflict Zones," Santana ticked the classes off on her fingers. "It's a light semester for me, since I'm done with all my general education requirements. I'm co-chair of the Pre Law Society, too. And treasurer for our GSA."

"Sounds like you've still got your place full, if not just with classes," Rachel said, taking a sip from her wine. It was nice, she reflected for a moment, to finally be 21 and able to go out to dinner like a real adult.

"Yeah. I like keeping busy," Santana shrugged.

Their waiter came by and took their food orders. The two women continued to chat about their respective college experiences and eventually the conversation turned to their families and old friends.

"Do you keep in touch with anyone from Glee or the Cheerios?" Rachel asked, pushing her mostly finish plate of pasta towards the center of the table.

Santana reached across her own empty place and picked some food off of Rachel's. "Not really. I mean, I talk to Brittany every once and a while, but otherwise… Well, I talk to Kurt online a lot, but almost never on the phone."

"Kurt? I didn't realize you were close." Rachel fiddled with the stem of her wine glass.

Santana hesitated before saying, "I came out to Kurt senior year. We've had this sort of bond ever since."

Rachel nodded, "Makes sense. I—"

Their waiter smiled sheepishly at them, realizing he'd interrupted.

Rachel smiled at him, letting him know it was okay.

"Would you ladies like anything for dessert?"

Santana and Rachel shared a look before Santana shook her head. "No thanks, just the check, please."

The young man nodded and made himself scarce.

Rachel found her heart sinking a bit at the thought of the night being over. Judging by the look on her companion's face, Santana was feeling the same way. Rachel smiled and covered the other woman's hand with her own. "Hey, do you want to take this back to my dorm? I have a single and we could watch a movie or something."

Santana smirked and turned her hand in Rachel's, lightly gripping the shorter brunette's fingers. "Or something?"

Rachel blushed. "Yes, well, I don't really consider myself the sex-on-the-first-date sort, but I suppose that's a moot point for us."

"A movie sounds good to me, Rach," Santana let her smirk turn into a genuine smile.

Several hours later, as Santana was muttering rapid-fire Spanish and moaning her name, Rachel reflected for a moment that they had gotten halfway through the movie version of _RENT_ before giving up all pretense of keeping their hands off each other. She considered that a small victory and, when Santana motioned that she needed a break, Rachel finally allowed herself to feel tired. Kissing the other woman's sweaty temple and wrapping her arms around Santana, Rachel tried not to dissect the feeling of contentment that was swelling inside her and just enjoy it. There was always time for conversations about the status of their relationship later.


End file.
